


Loss Comes From Russia

by swankyturnip76



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied Spirk, M/M, Mentioned Pavel Chekov, Mind Meld, Past Character Death, implied mcspirk, implied spones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swankyturnip76/pseuds/swankyturnip76
Summary: After Chekov's accidental death, Kirk finds himself starting to fall apart. A grief counselor distantly related to Guinan tells him that of all the realities that featured Pavel Chekov, this one was the only one where Chekov died young, unmarried, and alone. Shaken by the conversation, Jim goes to Spock and Bones for comfort. Implied kirk/bones/spock. Very angsty with lots of hugs and physical comfort.





	Loss Comes From Russia

**Author's Note:**

> When the actor who plays Chekov in the alternate original world movies passed away in real life, it really messed me up. This fic comes as a tribute to him and his memory several years after his passing and is purely self-indulgent. I'm not sure how the future star trek movies that follow this timeline are going to handle Anton Yelchin's passing, but I imagine that the character of Kirk would be pretty shaken up by the death of Pavel Chekov's character (if they decide to kill off his character).

He gave the eulogy twice – once in front of a Starfleet gathering on Earth and another time onboard the _Enterprise_ in front of his crew. He had managed to keep it largely together during both speeches and hadn’t cried during the receptions for both funerals. He had encouraged members of the crew to seek counsel from the five or six members of Starfleet that had been sent to speak with everyone during this difficult time and had followed his own advice, setting a model of leadership by being the first one to go for grief counseling. Starfleet had given them a week’s worth of time to cope and breathe before he had requested they be sent out on a mission. He knew his crew would rather be out serving the galaxy in Chekov’s memory than sitting around, crying over his loss. And so the _Enterprise_ had gone out on mission after mission, without Chekov. And James Tiberius Kirk had maintained his professional role as captain through it all – always lifting his crew’s mood with optimistic speeches and informed plans of attack.

But burying his pain and anguish wasn’t healthy. And as the missions and weeks went by, he felt himself getting closer and closer to snapping. One night he confessed to his grief counselor Tuyni that his façade as a strong leader was crumbling and he feared it would affect the next mission. The advice and things she told him spurred him to go and talk to his closest companions about it.

The walk to Spock’s quarters was an emotionally long one. He knew that Bones would be there as well because the two played chess together every other Tuesday and Thursday night. He half-wondered if it was something of an ironic miracle that he had decided to open up to Tuyni on a day when he knew the others played chess.

The door slid open easily for him and without his needing to knock or scan. Spock’s quarters contained a quaint living room with the bedroom and bathroom located behind it. As soon as he rounded the corner of the entranceway and appeared in the living room, Bones started ranting.

“There you are! Jim, tell this pointy-eared gremlin from hell that the Clartaenax Move of Planet Xirt is completely illegal in standard chess!”

“I thought you would be a fan of illegal things considering your recent purchase of a Ponguu brandy that can only be found on the black market for its disturbingly high proof,” Spock replied evenly, moving his bishop without looking up.

Bones cast the Vulcan a deep-rooted glare as Jim moved deeper into the room. “With that sort of attitude, it’s a wonder I don’t retract my offer to share some with you.”

“I highly doubt I would be a fan of it. Your idea of drinking with the intent of destroying your human liver seems purely illogical and self-destructive.”

As Bones opened his mouth and started to reply, it was at that moment that Spock finally looked up and into Jim’s face.

“…Furthermore, I don’t need to take advice from a giant baby who doesn’t even like coming in for the routine checkup –”

“Leonard.”

Spock’s clear, steady, and commanding voice cut through McCoy’s complaint. The doctor’s brow furrowed in confusion before he followed Spock’s line of sight to look at their captain.

Jim was crying.

“Jesus – Jim, what happened?” Bones asked, immediately jumping to his feet and moving to pull Jim in close. The captain went, burrowing his face in McCoy’s neck and wrapping his arms tightly around the doctor. Jim’s hands clenched in the fabric of McCoy’s uniform as he shook in the doctor’s arms. Bones whispered soothing words but looked worryingly towards Spock who had come around to stand behind Jim. Unlike Bones, Spock was not necessarily the ‘hugger’ type and chose instead to reach out and rest his hands comfortingly on Jim’s shoulders. He pressed down just enough so that Jim could feel his presence without getting hurt. For a while they stood like that, Bones and Spock each waiting for Jim to cry through it all until he could compose himself enough to talk. Eventually, Jim took in a few staggered breaths and slackened his grip on McCoy’s shirt.

He didn’t let go.

He pulled back just far enough so that his tear-soaked face was no longer spreading snot against McCoy’s neck and began, “You know how I’ve been seeing a grief counselor…?” His voice broke halfway through the question.

Bones nodded, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over Jim’s hips. They had all been seeing grief counselors throughout the missions following Chekov’s death. “She’s the one from El-Auria, right? Puyni or Tuyni or something…?”

Jim nodded, not meeting McCoy’s eyes. “She has the ability of seeing…the end events across…different realities. She said…” his chest heaved and Bones moved to press their foreheads together. For a long time, Jim just stood there, feeling the two men closest to him remind him of their presence.

Missions always brought danger and the possibility of death but Chekov hadn’t died bravely on a mission. His death had been purely accidental and that was the hardest part of coping with his loss for Jim. It had all been a terrible accident.

“What did she say, Jim?” Spock asked quietly from behind him.

“She said…she…” Jim opened his mouth but nothing came out. He thought he might be screaming but there was no sound. His eyes were shut so tightly that he saw stars. He knew he was crying through it – he could feel his body quaking. He knew he was falling apart at the seams.

A gentle pressure against his temple made him turn in McCoy’s arms to find Spock kissing the spot where Spock Prime once mind-melded with him. Spock remained there for a long moment before he pulled away and met Jim’s eyes.

“Melding may help you convey your thoughts.”

Unwilling to put up a fight in his emotional state, Jim nodded his consent. Spock pressed his fingertips against Jim’s face and the captain shivered as Spock read through all of his thoughts and feelings. After a moment, Spock pulled away and asked, “May I share it?”

Jim nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak.

Spock didn’t take his eyes off of his captain as he informed McCoy, “Tuyni said that this is the only reality out of all the ones she knows about where Pavel Chekov dies young, unmarried, and alone.”

Bones took in a shaky breath. Jim couldn’t hold the eye contact with Spock – it was too much, everything was too much – and buried his face into the Vulcan’s shoulder. Bones wrapped his arms tighter around Jim, encircling his torso, as Spock reached up to bury a hand in Jim’s hair.

“Bet she thought it would be a comfort to you, telling you that,” Bones muttered. “Damn psychiatrists.”

“It was a comfort, though,” Jim whispered. “It was. It means he doesn’t suffer like this in any other realm. She told me about the realities where he gets married and has children and lives to be almost a hundred and laughs all the time and experiences so many happy times. It just sucks that _this_ is the reality where he doesn’t get to experience those things. He’ll never get to do any of the things he accomplishes in any other realm.”

“Then we’ll have to accomplish them for him,” Bones replied softly. He waited for Jim to pull back enough and meet his eyes before saying, “ _We’ll_ have to live and find happiness in his memory. It’s what he would have wanted, Jim.”

“I believe the doctor is correct,” Spock chimed in. “Ensign Chekov was a beacon of light and his death was misfortunate. And I believe it is very admirable how long you have held yourself together in the face of the crew. But we must look to the future with…I believe the expression is ‘open minds and open hearts.’”

Bones held the back of Jim’s neck and pressed their foreheads together once more. “Can’t believe I’m saying this but the bastard hobgoblin is right. The _Enterprise_ ’ll always have a spot reserved for the kid’s memory. He’ll be with us in spirit on every mission, to every damned planet you guide us to. You can get through this, Jim. _We_ can get through this.”

Jim nodded and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was hard finding light in a time of darkness. It was hard to focus on the rest of his crew when someone he loved so much had been taken away from them. Moving forward was hard. Far more difficult than just giving up and ending it all. But Pavel wouldn’t have wanted him to give up. Pavel would’ve wanted him to keep being responsible for and in charge of the _Enterprise_.

“We are here for each other,” Spock whispered from somewhere against his skin. “We are here.”

Jim held them both very tightly. This wouldn’t be the last time he cried over Chekov or a lost crewmember. This wouldn’t be the last time he crumbled or questioned whether or not he could continue. But he knew that as long as he had people in his corner backing him up and supporting him, he could make it through the hardship and loss.

That’s what being part of a crew was all about.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at swankaliciouschekov. Door's always open for prompts/suggestions for fics. Please don't send hate mail if you don't like this work or others of mine.


End file.
